Demelza and the King
by Alice Baggins
Summary: When Bilbo Baggins refuses to join the company of Thorin Oakensheild, Demelza Baggins sees a chance to escape her abusive mother, Lobelia Sackville-Baggins. Escape the Shire, see the world, fall in love...fall for the one man she can never have? After all, what could a simple hobbit ever offer a king?
1. Chapter 1

It had happened again. Just like it always did. Demelza would try to please her step-mother, Lobelia. At first, Lobelia would allow her to grovel, she might even be gratuitous, but eventually she would disappoint her in one way or another, and today she had disappointed her spectacularly. Demelza had the bruises to prove it.

As soon as Bilbo opened the door Demelza smiled the most brilliant smile she could muster. Perhaps, she hoped, the smile would distract him from the vivid fresh bruise which had enveloped half her face. For a brief moment it did, till his eyes drifted down and his own smile dropped off his face.

"Not again!"

"It's not that bad." Demelza muttered as she walked past him into the house.

"Elza, you look like you're been kicked by a horse."

"My _dear_ mama, a horse, what's the difference?" Demelza smiled, laughed, and then winced. It had already started to hurt to smile. She wondered if, once the bruising had gone down, there would be a dent on the side of her face from where her mother had hit her.

"Come in."

Demelza sat down in front of the open fireplace and quickly turned the bruised side of her face away from the fireplace. The heat from the fire too much to bear combined with the warmth radiating from her bruises. A few minutes later Bilbo re-appeared with a damp cloth. Demelza winced as he pressed it against her cheek and took it from him. The cold cloth like ice against her hot skin.

"Thank you."

"What happened?" Bilbo demanded as he pulled a chair up next to her. "Why did that witch hit you this time?"

"I refused to marry Largo Halfast, you can imagine my dear mother's reaction."

"Old man Halfast? He's older than me!"

"He's richer than you too. Maybe I should marry him, at least it would get me away from her." Demelza laughed dryly.

"Don't even joke about it. You want to be free, not just move over to another cage."

"Well then, do you mind if I stay with you in this cage tonight?"

"Bag End is not a cadge!" Bilbo replied defensively. "But yes, of course you can stay. You should sleep, get some rest?"

Demelza nodded and stood up. Before she could walk away Bilbo pulled her into a hug, Demelza winced as his arms pressed down on the welts on her back, but she did not say a word.

"It'll be alright Demelza. You can stay here as long as you want."

Demelza smiled at him and shuffled away, down the hall, to the room at the end of it. As soon as the door was closed she knelt on a crumbled heap on the floor, one hand on the handle and the other on her back. Her spine felt like it was on fire. It wasn't just the pain, it was the humiliation. Less than six months ago she had escaped to this very room and promised herself that enough was enough. It would never happen again. She was of age now, Bilbo had offered her a home with him more than once, she could escape. But each time a desperate need to be loved by the woman her long-dead father had promised would be her mother brought her back to the hobbit hole in Hardbottle. When Tom, her father, had died Lobelia already had her sight set on her newest victim. Otho Sackville-Baggins. Within three months they were married, and Demelza had found herself with a new father. A hollow pale imitation of the great man she loved. But for all his faults he had never struck her, in fact, he seemed entirely indifferent to her. He would never raise his hand to her, but he would never intervene either, and tonight had been the worst beating for years.

Lobelia had managed to resist venting her fury till they had reached their home in Hardbottle, but as soon as the door had closed Lobelia grabbed the willow switch which hung on the kitchen wall and began to his her furiously. Demelza looked down and winced as a tear fell on the red welts on her forearms. Part of her was relieved it had not been her shoulders, as seemed to be the custom, which had born the brunt of her step-mother's rage last time. The pain of just wearing clothes over the lashes had been excruciating, but at least the marks had been easier to hide. The only thing worse than the bruises were the looks people gave her when they saw them. The pity and confusion. She knew the thoughts that passed through their minds, they passed through her's too. Why would she say with Lobelia? Why did she never fight back?

"Elza?" Bilbo called down the hall. "I'm just going to go down the Green Dragon. I've run out of Ale."

Demelza shook her head. He had not run out of ale, she was sure of that. But it was as good a ruse as any to go find Lydia Maybury for the usual concoction of herbs for her bruises.

"Will you be alright?"

"I'll be fine, thank you, Bilbo."

The door closed and there was complete silence for several minutes.

She stood up and walked over to the chest at the end of the ready-made bed, a handful of old clothes tucked away in it. After a few minutes she found a pair of long old woolen gloves which reached up to her elbows. Demelza slowly pulled them on. The corse old gloves like small thorns against her sore, red, skin. It hurt, but she did not pull the gloves off. The pain hellped, it distracted her from the voice in her mind which chided her over and over again for being so utterly weak.

As she curled up on the bed and pulled the blanket over her head she tried to resist the wave of tears behind her eyes, but one by one they spilled out.

"Papa! Papa! Come home!" Demelza whispered to herself and curled up a little tighter. The blanket wrapped over her like a cocoon. She remembered the day her father had come home and told her that he had married Lobelia. She had been so excited. Never having known her own mother, the thought of finally having a mother had been exciting. Somehow she had, and in some way still did, expected her to fill the emptiness in her heart.

"This time you're staying here!" Demelza whispered to herself through a muffled sob. "You're not going back!"

It was a lie of course. She would go back, eventually. She always did.

"You've got to get out of here."

There was a loud knock on the front door. Loud enough to make her jump and sit up. Whoever that was, it wasn't Bilbo. Lobelia, maybe? No, her knocks were different. Sharp and quick. Again, there was a loud knock and Demelza stood up, her blanket still held around her. She walked over to the door and stood with her hand hovering over the handle as another loud, impatient, knock rattled it.

Her heart in her chest she opened the door and peered through the crack in the door. A pair of piercingly blue eyes looked back at her.

"Bilbo?"

Demelza stood spellbound. She had never met a dwarf before, but she had no doubt that the man in front of her was, in fact, a dwarf. He was nothing like what she had imagined a dwarf would look like. Yes, he did have the distinctive long hair and beard so commonly associated with them, but the way he stood, the way he looked at her was nothing like the bumbling, foolish image she had painted in her mind. This dwarf stood tall, proud, his head held high with an air around him that made her feel small, without feeling insignificant. A small soul in the presence of a great one.

"Um, no, no, Bilbo, he'll be back soon."

The dwarf looked at her expectantly as an awkward silence ensued.

"Has Gandalf arrived?"

"Gandalf? No."

"Would you mind if I waited for him inside?"

"Um, um, yes, sorry! Please do come in."

Demelza stepped inside and closed the door behind him, the scent of pine and stone wafting in with him.

"I-I don't know what Bilbo has in the kitchen, he just left to find some ale." Demelza blurted out as she walked to the kitchen, the dwarf behind her. His heavy, slow footsteps on the tiles much louder than the small patter of her bare feet. Demelza ran up to the pantry and rummaged around until she could find some ale. "Ah! Here it is, would you like some?"

"Yes, that would be nice. Thank you."

Demelza smiled and then winced, her face even more swollen than before. The dwarf watched her as she fumpled around the kitchen, trying desperately to find a cup. Her blanket trailing on the ground behing her. There was something about the dwarf that made her feel that to serve him ale in a plain terracotta cup would not be fitting, and she had no idea where Bilbo kept the glasses. Finally, she found them, stuffed away at the back of one of the cupboards. Thankfully they were clean, not so much as a single spec of dust on them. Not that she expected anything less from Bilbo. He was even more meticulous than her when it came to organisation.

"Sorry, here's your ale."

"No need to apologize." The dwarf took a long sip of the ale, and glanced back at her, his eyes on the now purple bruise on her face. Demelza felt her face turn red and she quickly pulled free the hair tucked behind her ears to try and hide the bruise.

"My name is Demelza. Demelza Baggins."

"Thorin. Thorin Oakensheild."


	2. Chapter 2

Even if the house had been as silent as the grave, Demelza would still have been unable to sleep. Bilbo had arrived not long after Thorin, followed by Gandalf and what could only be described as a tribe of dwarves. Loud, brazen and with a voracious appetite they had sauntered into Bag End and promptly begun to hund down every morcel of food in the vecinity. Unwilling to have her bruises stared at by yet more strangers Demelza had retreated to her room. Before long though, she found her way back to the door, and opened it up a crack so that she could hear the dwarves discussion.

Bilbo sounded very unhappy.

Not that she blamed him. Judging by the din which came from the kitchen and joint dining room she would not be surprised if all the cutlery would have to be replaced, along with possibly a few new walls. It sounded like a pretty magnificent party. Deep down in her chest she resisted the pull with tempted to lure her into the room with them. It must be nice, she thought, to be part of such a large group. All laughing, all smiling. They sounded like they all knew each other well. To have so many friends, it must be wonderful.

"Hello?"

Demelza looked up to see Gandalf, a concerned look on his face as he crouched down to her height by the door.

"I'm Gandalf, and you are?"

"Demelza." She replied and shook his outstretched hand.

"Why don't you come in and eat with us?"

"I'm not hungry."

Just as she said that her stomach grumbled loudly. Gandalf laughed.

"It would seem your stomach disagrees with you Demelza. Come on. I do believe there is enough food for all of us." Gandalf stood up and reached for her hand. For reasons Demelza could not explain she did not feel like she should disagree with him. He was a wizard after all, he might put a curse on her, she thought. Best to comply. As she walked into the dining room beside Gandalf, her head barely up to the height of Gandalf's ribs, every single dwarf turned to look at her. Demelza felt her face turn bright red again and pulled up a chair beside Bilbo, her head partly bowed to avoid eye contact. Her long hair in a tauseled mess of curls around her face.

"Umm, this is my...niece." Bilbo blurted out, surprised to see her. Demelza smiled nervously at him and reached for some bread, the gloves still on her hand. She always appreciated that Bilbo considered her to be his niece, even though there was absolutely no biological connection. She might as well have been a complete stranger, but Bilbo had always treated her like family.

Thorin stood up and pointed to each one of the dwarves one by one as he named them. Demelza did her best to try to remember the names, but after four names which all ended with 'ily' or 'oin' she decided there was not much point.

As soon as Thorin had named all of them one of the dwarves cleared his throat loudly, a half masticated piece of bread still in his mouth. "What happened to your face?"

"Ori!" Thorin scolded loudly. Demelza's face so red it almost matched her hair.

"I just wanted to know." Ori mumbled and nibbled nervously at his bread as Thorin glared at him.

"I fell. Hit my head on the side of the table." Demelza replied, calmly. It still frightened her how easily she could come up with excuses for her injuries, and just how convincing she sounded each time.

"Well, it's quite a spectacular bruise!" Another of the dwarves replied. This one taller than all the others, his head partly shaved and covered in tattoos.

Demelza got the impression that the dwarf meant it as a compliment, so she smiled, and then winced.

"Gandalf?" Thorin looked over at Gandalf who reached into his robes to produce a map, which he laid out on the table in front of them. Demelza looked over curious at it, as did the rest of the dwarves except for Thorin who seemed to be familiar with it.

"This, this is our chance!" Thorin said excitedly, his deep voice. "All we need is a burglar."

"No! No! No!" Bilbo said firmly, a terrified look on his face. "I'm sorry Gandalf, but I will not be roped into some hair-brained adventure!"

"Bilbo, you'll see the world! And adventure."

"Many adventures result in death, Gandlalf, and when I do die I would like to do so in the comfort of my own home. Not hundreda of miles away, burnt to a pile of ash and powder. It's not dignified, respectful or - I would imagine - particularly comfortable!"

With an angry flick of his head Bilbo stormed off down the hallway, a folded parchment left open on the table in front of him. Thorin shook his head and turned back to his food.

"Well, that's the end of that."

"I honestly thought he would come," Gandalf grumbled sadly, "We needed him."

"What use can a hobbit be, especially one which has never left the Shire?" Thorin laughed. "I need soldiers. Not a delicate farmer."

"Hobbits are remarkably tough and resourceful!" Gandalf replied defensively. "And if you'd ever had one sneak up on you, you'd realize how they'd make excellent burglars! Do you honestly expect to be able to charge into the mountain and defeat Smaug with just a handful of dwarves? We need a burglar!"

"I'm sure Bofur can help. If not, then we must simply find a way to kill a dragon."

"The entire Ereborian army was slaughtered by Smaug in less than an hour! Do you honestly expect to do better than they did?"

"You don't need to remind me, Gandalf!" Thorin snapped back. "Incase you have forgotten, I was there! I saw the devastation! You were not."

Thorin stood up and walked away. A nervous silence around the table. Demelza listened, fascinated, as the dwarves bickered amongst one another.

"I'm sure I could do it, how hard can it be?" Bofur said, his voice less than confident. "Afterall, it's been asleep for so long now, maybe it's died and we have nothing to fear."

"if it had died, Laddie, then I have no doubt either the Lakesmen or the elves would have moved into the mountain."

"What reason would the elves have to go to Erebor?"

"Appart from the mountains of gold?" Fili laughed.

One by one the dwarves left the table and followed Thorin into the living room where he sat in front of the fire, a pipe in his mouth and a somber expression on his face. Demelza and Gandalf sat alone at the table in silence. Demelza reached over the contract and opened it, curious to the terms.

"The company shall not be held responsible for any injuries inflicted or sustained as a consequence thereof, including but not limited to lacerations, incineration, evisceration-"

Demelza's looked up at Gandalf, wide-eyed.

"It's a dragon Demelza, the journey was never going to be easy."

"A dragon? A real dragon?!"

"Yes."

"And you want Bilbo to steal from it? Why?"

"Because it stole their home. Thorin's home. He is king by right."

"Doesn't he have an army for that?"

"The dwarves of Erebor were all but destroyed when the dragon took the mountain. He, and his people, have been struggling to survive in the blue mountains for years now. But the Lonely Mountain is their home. You cannot fault him for longing for it's return."

Demelza put down the contract, the smallest spark of an idea in her mind. An idea which terrified and excited her all in one.

"What will they do now?"

Gandalf shrugged and stood up. "What they've always done I assume, struggle on."

Demelza watched as Gandalf walked into the living room after the dwarves, a low slow sound echoing from inside. The tune mournfull, it reminded her of a funeral song. Her eyes drifted back to the contract in front of her. An adventure, Gandalf had said. _An escape._

Demelza stood up, the parchment in her hands and slowly walked to the living room, the dwarves all with their backs to her, their faces to the fireplace as they sang. A low cloud of tobacco pipe in the air. The thought at the back of her mind grew louder and louder as she listened. Images of dragons, gold and - more than anything else - an escape. Slowly she tiptoed over to the bureau and picked up the ready quill. Her hand hovered over the bottom of the contract, a brief flicker of fear in her mind. What was it that Thorin had said? _What use can a hobbit be, especially one which has never left the Shire?_ What use could she be? She was a cook, a cleaner, a gardener and a forager. She was not a soldier. The most dangerous weapon she had ever wielded was a garden fork, or maybe a small scythe. She would be no use in a battle, only a burden. _But you would make an excellent burglar_ , she thought. And after all, it was better to face a dragon than Lobelia.

Demelza took a deep breath and scrawled her name quickly on the parchment under Thorin's. _Demelza Sackville-Baggins._


	3. Chapter 3

"Wait!" Demelza panted as she ran up being the company. "Wait!"

The dwarves all turned in their saddles and pulled their ponies to a halt. Every single one of them with a confused expression on their faces, all of them except for Gandalf.

"I signed it! I signed it!" Demelza panted and passed Gandalf the crumpled contract. Gandalf reached down for it and passed it to Balin.

"It seems to be in order."

"No!" Thorin pulled his pony up beside them and looked down at Demelza, pity mixed with determination on his face. "Mistress Baggins, the offer was for your uncle. Not you."

"I'm a better burglar than him." Demelza whispered defeatedly. She had been afraid this would happen.

Thorin stepped down from his pony and took the contract back from Balin to pass back to her. "Mistress Baggins, there is no kind way to say this, you would only be a burden. I was willing to trust Gandalf on Bilbo, but unless I'm mistaken, he does not know you as well. So it is not a risk I am willing to take."

"Actually" Gandalf cleared his throat loudly, a small twitch of a smile on his face. "I think I can recommend her quite confidently."

"On what grounds?" Thorin snapped, irritated.

"On the grounds that the key to Erebor is no longer in your possession."

Thorin looked back at him confused and reached into his pocket. A look of horror on his face when he felt that the key was gone. For a moment the looked on the ground in a panic, that was until he saw Demelza with a sheepish look on her face. The key in her hand.

"I'm better at burglary than Bilbo" Demelza whispered and passed the key back to him.

Thorin's expression snapped into a grim frown faster than a thunder clap. He snatched the key from her hands and remounted his pony.

"Give her a pony!"

Before Demelza had time to respond two hands grabbed hold of her shoulder and she was hauled onto the saddle of one of the free ponies. Demelza took hold of the reins and held on as though her life depended on it. Her legs pressed down so tightly on either side of the pony she felt like she might be hurting it. She did not have the nerve to tell the dwarves that she had very ridden a pony in her life. She had thought that perhaps she could get away with walking alongside them. After all, none of the ponies were going much faster than walking ponies, she was quite certain that she would have been able to keep up. But with Thorin's reaction to her joining the company Demelza had decided that, perhaps, it was best not to make any kind of fuss. She thought he might even wish that she would disappear entirely. He did not realize just how good she was at making herself invisible.

"It'll be alright." She whispered to herself. "Now you're free."

 _"Or, you've escaped to another cage'_ \- Bilbo's voice whispered back to her in her head. _"A cage with a dragon at the end of it."_


	4. Chapter 4

The rain had not stopped all day and Demelza was so cold she wondered if she would ever be able to feel her fingertips again. Her nose was bright red, her cold had only gotten worse over the last few days and her teeth were permanently chattering. Still, she did not complain. The same could not be said of the rest of the dwarves. Inface, Demelza was pretty certain they had mastered the art of complaining.

"We rest here tonight!" Thorin called back to the group and there was a collective sigh of relief.

Demelza waited for them to all pull out the firewood they had carried in their backpacks before she reached into her pocket for her flint. Over the last few day's the dwarves had discovered two very important things about her. One, she was an excellent listener, and two, she had a gift for starting fires.

"You look freezing lassie. Do you want me to try?" Balin asked her. Demelza's fingers so cold she could barely hold the flint to strike it.

"I-I-m all-ll r-r-right." Demelza smile and kept striking the flint.

"Aright? You look like you're about to snap in half" Dwalin laughed and placed his own cloak over Demelz's shoulders. His cloak so large it enveloped her like a blanket, the inside thick and warm.

Out of the corner of her eye, Demelza saw Thorin shake his head and look away. He didn't like it. All the dwarves, except for Thorin, had been beyond chivalrous towards her. They had borderline pandered her. Every time she shivered eight hands would pass her a scarf or gloves. Her plate was always filled the most, and over the past few days Fili, Dwalin and Ori had done their best to show her how to ride her pony. While she was still not a confident rider - something she was sure her pony took advantage of - she felt as though she was slowly starting to get the hang of it. At least now she did not drift to the back of the line each time.

"Ahhh! Finally!" Demelza exclaimed as one of the sparks finally took hold in the kindling.

The rest of the dwarves watched anxiously as she gently coaxed the flicker into a flame and built the fire up stick by stick. As soon as the fire was established Dwalin stepped in and, Ori and Dori with him to help him cook. While the rest of the dwarves huddled around the fire Demelza collected their ponies and lead them away from the fire to tether them in a secluded area not far from the fireplace where the canopy would protect the ponies as much as possible she tethered them one by one in groups. Careful to loosen all their bridles before she did. While riding them still frightened her, she had grown to love the beautiful little creatures . They reminded her of home, and as much as she denied it her self, she did, at times, feel dreadfully homesick for the Shire. Especially Bagend.

"Demelza! Come get some food!" Fili shouted over to her, Kili beside him.

"In a minute!" Demelza shouted back and started to undo their saddles.

Without saying a word Thorin walked up beside her and began to help her. Demelza looked at him confused but did not say a word, sure that at any moment he was about to rebuke her for some fault or other. He had not said a word to her over that last few days, but Demelza could feel his annoyance. He felt cheated, she was sure of that, and the way the rest of the dwarves watched over her like she was some kind of broken bird did not do much to help her case, she thought. One by one they unsaddled the ponies till all of them were free.

"You'd never ridden before, had you?" Thorin asked.

"No. Never."

"And you decided to travel with us anyway?"

"Yes, but I am a good burglar!" The rain had not stopped all day and Demelza was so cold she wondered if she would ever be able to feel her fingertips again. Her nose was bright red, her cold had only gotten worse over the last few days and her teeth were permanently chattering. Still, she did not complain. The same could not be said of the rest of the dwarves.

"We rest here tonight!" Thorin called back to the group and there was a collective sigh of relief.

Demelza waited for them to all pull out the firewood they had carried in their backpacks before she reached into her pocket for her flint. Over the last few day's the dwarves had discovered two very important things about her. One, she was an excellent listener, and two, she had a gift for starting fires.

"You look freezing lassie. Do you want me to try?" Balin asked her. Demelza's fingers so cold she could barely hold the flint to strike it.

"I-I-m all-ll r-r-right." Demelza smile and kept striking the flint.

"Aright? You look like you're about to snap in half" Dwalin laughed and placed his own cloak over Demelz's shoulders. His cloak so large it enveloped her like a blanket, the inside thick and warm.

Out of the corner of her eye, Demelza saw Thorin shake his head and look away. He didn't like it, all the dwarves, except for Thorin, had been beyond chivalrous towards her. They had borderline pandered her. Every time she shivered eight hands would over her a scarf or gloves. Her plate was always filled the most and over the past few days Fili, Dwalin and Ori had done their best to show her how to ride her pony. While she was still not a confident rider - something she was sure her pony took advantage of - she felt as though she was slowly starting to get the hang of it.

"Ahhh! Finally!" Demelza exclaimed as one of the sparks finally took hold in the kindling.

The rest of the dwarves watched anxiously as she gently coaxed the flicker into a flame and built the fire up stick by stick. As soon as the fire was established Dwalin stepped in and, Ori and Dori with him to help him cook. While the rest of the dwarves huddled around the fire Demelza collected their ponies and lead them away from the fire to tether them. As soon as she had found a secluded area a few feet away from the fireplace where the canopy would protect the ponies as much as possible she tethered them one by one in groups. Careful to loosen all their bridles before she did.

"Demelza! Come get some food!" Fili shouted over to her, Kili beside him.

"In a minute!" Demelza shouted back and started to undo their saddles.

Without saying a word Thorin walked up beside her and began to help her. Demelza looked at him confused but did not say a word, sure that at any moment he was about to rebuke her for some fault or other. He had not said a word to her over that last few days, but Demelza could feel his annoyance. He felt cheated, she was sure of that, and the way the rest of the dwarves watched over her like she was some kind of broken bird did not do much to help her case. One by one they unsaddled the ponies till all of them were free.

"You'd never ridden before, had you?" Thorin asked.

"No. Never."

"And you decided to come anyway?"

"Yes" Demelza voice dropped down to a whisper. "But I am a good burglar!"

"I saw."

For a moment Demelza thought she saw the faintest flick of a smile on his face.

"I'm a fast learner too. I won't be this slow for long."

"You can't be afraid."

"What?"

"When you ride. You can't be afraid of the pony, if it doesn't know you're in charge it will try to take the lead. You can't let it."

Demelza nodded. "They're so much stronger than me though."

"Are you affraid of spiders?"

Demelza looked at him, confused by his strange question. "Yes."

"You're much bigger than them. It's not about size, it's the _will_ that matters. Which is why, I think you should return now to the Shire. While you still can."

Demelza's heart dropped like a stone.

"I understand your need to leave the Shire" Thorin replied, his tone a little less harsh. "But we cannot be your means of escape. You have to face your deamons on your own, as we all do."

Before Demelza could reply Thorin walked away. She stood there, stunned into silence, tears in her eyes.

"Demelza? Are you alright?"

Demelza quickly rubbed away the tears and turned to face Fili and Kili as they passed her a bowl of soup.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes! I'm fine! I'm just tired, that's all."

"He said something, Thorin, didn't he?" Kili asked. Demelza nodded, her eyes on the ground. "Don't take it to heart, my uncle can come across as a little...stern, but he means well."

"He asked me to leave." Demelza whispered back.

Both their faces dropped.

"What? No! You have to stay! You're part of the company now!"

"And you would only regret it if you left now" Fili chimed in.

Demelza nodded and walked away, her head swimming with the voices of self-doubt and Thorin's own words. She sat down by the fire and stretched her bare feet towards the burning embers. The rest of the dwarves huddled around it too, all of them with a bowl of soup in their hands. Demelza looked up. Thorin's eyes on her, his brow pressed into a grim frown. She looked away and slowly untucked her hair from behind her ears to hide her face. Suddenly she felt so small and insignificant.

Maybe she should? What on middle-earth had she been thinking! She was just a hobbit, a frail, weak hobbit. What could a pair of sticky fingers compare to the might of a dragon? She should leave. It was only a few days ride back to the Shire, she was sure she would be able to find her way back home easily enough. Even if they didn't let her keep the pony. Yes, perhaps it was better to end it now, before things got too dangerous.

As Demelza waded her thoughts over again and again in her head she did not notice the dwarves all getup and leave one by one as Fili and Kili called them over to where the ponies were tethered. It was only when she stood up to collect her pack when she noticed that she was completely alone.

"Hello?"

"Hello?!"

"Fili?"

"Kili?"

"Thorin?"

Then she heard the roars.


	5. Chapter 5

Demelza crept forward on her hands and knees, her stomach completely wet from the damp ground. Inch by painful inch she edged her way forward until she was so close she could smell the horrible rancid odour which surrounded the trolls. Her heart in the chest she looked around for the dwarves, till she saw a writhing bundle of sacks near the entrance to the trolls cave.

"Come on! I'm 'ungy!" One of the trolls exclaimed. "Let's get som meet on da fiwa!"

Demelza covered her mouth in horror as several of the dwarves were tied down the spit the trolls had built over the fire. Bofur, Bofur Bifur, Bombur and Dwalin. They kicked and struggled as hard as they could, but it was hopeless. Without their weapons they were defenseless.

"No! No!" Thorin bellowed as his friends were turned over the spit slowly. Laughing the trolls piled more wood onto the fire, the flames stronger and hotter by the second.

 _I need to do something!_ Demelza wracked her brain to think of some way she could help, so terrified that her hands shook. She wondered if she would even be able to move, her muscles had frozen so much. The dwarves's weapons were piled on the ground not far from her. It wouldn't be too hard for her to take one of the smaller knives in the pile and crawl around to the dwarves which were still trapped in the sacks and free one of them. At least then they would have a fighting chance, but she wasn't sure Bofur, Bofur Bifur, Bombur and Dwalin could last that long. Their faces already red from the fire bellow them as they were turned round and round. No, the fire, she had to find a way to stop the fire.

"Get a move on! Dawn isn't fa' away! I don't fancy being turned to stone!" One of the Trolls grumbled. "I'm 'ungry!"

 _Dawn, that was it!_ Demelza rummaged under the grass around her until her fingers found a stone nestled between the moss. As soon as the troll's backs were turned she threw the stone towards the cave entrance behind them where it landed with a loud clatter.

"Wha' was dat?!" The trolls lumbered towards the sound, their backs turned towards Demelza and the dwarves. Demelza tried to stand up but suddenly found that her legs had seized, completely paralysed with fear. From the opposite side of the clearing, Thorin noticed a pale white face in the bushes. Demelza's curly red hair completely out of place among the dark green foliage.

"Demelza?"

He watched as she tossed another stone, this time a little further away, the trolls distracted again. This time Demelza was able to force herself to stand despite how afraid she was. She darted over to the fireplace and scooped several handfuls of dirt onto the fire before the raced back into the bushes again. The fire spluttering, the flames barely more than a shiver. She repeated this several times, the trolls too stupid to realise they were being distracted. Thorin watched with his heart in his mouth, sure that the Trolls would turn around at any moment and see the little red-haired hobbit crouched by the fire. By now the fire was barely more than a sorry collection of sparks, the flames all but dead under the dirt she had piled on top of them, and the sky had slowly started to turn from black to dark blue. The dawn closer by the second.

"Oh, look! The dawn's 'awlmost 'ear!" One of the trolls grumbles as it's attention was caught by the horizon.

All three of them turned around just as Demelza dived behind a tree, one of the dwarves daggers clutched in her hand.

"'ehy? What's goin' on?" The trolls muttered as they saw the fire die out in one last whisp of smoke. "Bert! Get 'da fia started again. We don't 'ave long, I want cooked dwaf! I'm not eating them raw! They taste 'orible raw."

Demelza held her hand over her mouth as she crawled around the clearing flat on her belly, afraid her frightened breathing could be heard by the trolls. She looked up towards the dwarves for a moment, Thorin's blue eyes fixed intently on her. Demelza looked back down at the ground and crawled towards them even faster.

"Finawy! Come on! Get tha fiwa goin'!" The tolls barked at the smaller troll who frantically fanned the flames. Fresh shouts of despair from the dwarves on the spit.

Demelza crawled alongside Thorin, doing her best to avoid eye contact with him and began to cut through the sack tying him down. As soon as she had cut open the side of it she reached for his hands, her eyes on the Trolls as she did so. Ready to duck down beside Thorin as soon as their eyes were turned in her direction. Thorin turned onto his side to try to help her and held out his bound wrists. Demelza cut through the ropes around his feet first and then began on his hands. Thorin flinched as her hands touched his, her fingers cold as ice and shaking.

"Breath, Demelza, just breath. It'll be alright!" He whispered.

"Oi! You!"

Demelza screamed as a large hand grabbed hold of her and hoisted her up into the air.

"No! No! Leave her alone!" Thorin and the other dwarves bellowed as loudly as they could. Demelza didn't say a word. Completely paralysed with fear, she stared into the yellow eyes of the trolls, shaking like a leaf. Thorin pulled on the ropes around his wrists as hard as he could, just a few strands remaining, but try as he might, he could not break them.

"What is it?" The trolls asked out loud to themselves as they sniffed at Demelza. "It's not a dwarf. Doesn't smewl right. What are you?"

"I'm...-" Demelza's voice quavered, but forced herself to speak as an idea occurred to her. "What do you think I am?"

"I dunno. Bert? What do you think it is?"

"I dunno. You, Tom?"

"I dunno."

"Well I dunno either! It muwst be somthing!"

"Can I give you a hint?" Demelza whispered, too afraid to speak up. The trolls nodded and sniffed at her again, Demelza terrified that at any moment they would try to eat her alive. Just a few more minutes, that's all she needed, just a few minutes more and the dawn would be hear. If she could just distract them for long enough...

"I'm not a dwarf and not a man."

"You're a woman?"

"No."

"You look like a woman."

"Look at 'er feet. I don't think a wimin 'as feet like 'dat." One of the trolls remarked.

"Do you tastes good?"

Demelza whimpered in fear and quickly shook her head. "No! I tasted terrible! All bones and no flavor."

"We could add the flavor!"

"Yes! We could! This one woulnd't take long to cook either! Just cut her up, a few minutes on the fire and we can save the rest faw la'er!"

Demelza screamed and struggled as the troll holding her up placed her face down on the ground, this hands clasped around her middle. Her arms trapped against her sides, completely unable to move. Her neck and head exposed.

"Tom! Get my chopper."

"NO!" Thorin strained with the ropes around his hands, his face bright red as he frantically scraped his hands on the ground bellow him to try and break the last few strands. All the dwarves howling like animals.

"No! Cook us! Cook us! We taste much better! You don't want to eat the hobbit!"

"What's a hobbit?" One of the trolls asked as it passed Bert a large rusty cleaver.

"I dunno. Tom, hold her hair back, I don't want any of gettin' in da meet."

Demelza's eyes fixed themselves on Thorin, wide-eyed and terrified. She whimpered as the troll, Tom, stood in front of her and pulled her long red hair towards himself to expose her neck.

"No! No! Leave her be!" Thorin bellowed as he furiously scraped his hands over the ground a little harder, one last strand of rope between him and the knife Demelza had dropped on the ground.

Demelza chin trembled as she felt the cold metal edge of the troll's meat cleaver press against the back of her neck, the tip so blunted it felt more like a hammer than a blade. This was it, this was how her adventure was going to end. Smashed to pieces and eaten by trolls, trolls who didn't even know what a hobbit was.

"There, I think dat 'aut to do it. Right there..." The troll raised the meat cleaver and Demelza screamed in terror, her eyes tightly closed.

"THE DAWN WILL TAKE YOU ALL!"

Startled, the meat cleaver fell from the trolls hand and sliced into the ground, inches away from Demelza's exposed neck. Before she could take in what had just happened she felt herself lifted into the air again as the trolls turned to look at Gandalf who was standing on a large boulder between them and the dawn.

"What's dat?"

"I dunno."

"Can we cook it?"

With a loud 'crack' Gandalf's staff broke open the boulder in half and the sunlight flooded towards the trolls. Demelza screamed as the troll's grip around her waist tightened, only just able to get her arms free before the troll's flesh turned to stone. Her torso crushed as the troll holding her turned to stone in the sunlight. If the pain wasn't enough, she realised that it was all but impossible to breathe, her ribs without enough room to expand and inhale.

"Demelza!"

Demelza tried to scream for help, but the only sound she could make was a horrible wheezing sound. With a roar Thorin broke through the last strand of rope around his wrists. He scrambled to his feet, grabbed hold of Dwalin's hammer ax in the pile of weapons and brought it down with all his might on the troll's stone hand. Demelza gasped in pain as half of the troll's stone hand broke away, she hung doubled over in mid air. Her ribs on fire, but able to breathe a little better. Again Thorin struck the trolls hand, another piece broken away.

"Thorin! Thorin! Stop!" Demelza begged, her voice barely more than a whisper, darkness starting to close in around her vision. His blows more painful to her than the troll's grip. In fact, she suspected one or two of her ribs might be broken.

With one last swing, Thorin crashed through the last piece of stone which held her and Demelza fell with it onto the ground, the pieces of broken stone bellow her. She landed in a crumpled heap on the ground. Thorin only just diving forward fast enough to catch her head in his arms.

Demelza looked up at him, her face completely ashen before her eyes rolled to the side and her body went limp.


	6. Chapter 6

Thorin's voice was the fist to pull Demelza from her restless sleep.

"Kili! How many times to I have to tell you?" Thorin hissed. "Be quiet!"

"Sorry, Uncle. How is she?"

"She hasn't moved."

"What did the elves say?"

"That she should be awake soon."

"Why isn't she awake then?"

"How should I know!" Thorin snapped at Kili.

"Thorin" - Demelza recognised Balin's calm voice - "You needn't be so hard on the lad. I examined her myself with them. She had some pretty severe bruising on her ribs, but nothing was broken. There's no reason to worry."

"I do worry, Balin" Thorin's voice dropped, Demelza presumed it was so the other dwarves present would not be able to hear him. "She saved our lives, and I tried to convince her to leave."

"Well, good thing she ignored you then!" Balin laughed.

Demelza quickly repressed the small smile she felt creep from the corner of her mouth.

"When I'm sure she's awake we should leave."

"What? Aren't we going to wait for Demelza to recover?"

"No, we can't. If Elrond is right about the map then we should leave soon. We can't waste any time."

Demelza couldn't help but inhale sharply at his comment, shocked and angry. _He had only just admitted that she had saved his life! And here he was again, regarding her as a dead weight._ Thorin turned to look at her, but Demelza kept her eyes closed and groaned slightly, her hand over her ribs. As soon as her fingers touched her side she winced for real. _Damn it_ \- she though - _they hurt!_ Suddenly she realised just how much everything hurt. Her arms, her hips, but her ribs especially. Even when she inhaled her bones creaked in protest. Little stabs of pain all across her torso. This time she groaned for real.

Thorin stood up and walked away, his hand held over his eyes. He hated this, the waiting. When he had picked her up from the ground she had been utterly limp. So small and fragile. The race to Rivendell had been agonising, one arm on the reigns, the other firmly around her waist, her head leant back against his shoulder. Every few minutes his hands would move to her neck and feel for her pulse to reassure himself that brave little Hobbit had not died in his arms. Her soft skin clamy and cold.

"Thorin, she'll be alright" Dwalin tried to reassure him before Thorin left the room.

"You should go after him." Balin suggested to his brother.

"No, he needs to be alone."

"Must you disagree with everything I say?" Balin grumbled.

"Only when you're wrong." Dwalin teased.

"Master dwarves, if you will, the Lord Elrond has a meal prepared for you on the balcony." A voice Demelza didn't recognise said from the doorway. Judging from where the sound came from she could tell the speaker was tall. Much taller than her or the dwarves. All of the dwarves jumped to their feet at once and ran from the room. Still Demelza remained perfectly still until she was certain that she was alone. Slowly she opened her eyes.

Whatever she had pictured Rivendell to look like none of her imaginings were anything like what she saw. The walls, floors and even furniture made in such a way that they resembled the roots of trees. Except infinitely more ordered, as though they had been coaxed into an elegant functional symmetry. It was beautiful. The colours, the artistry, everything made with an attention to detail that she deeply appreciated. The only thing that bothered her was the height. Her feet so high from the floor as she tried to hop down from the bed that she was reminded how it felt to be a child again. From where she stood she could see a doorway leading out into what she assumed was a garden. Several branches of Buddleja dangling down across the doorway, several white butterflies perched on the flowers quite happily. Demelza tiptoed forward, the marble floor cold against her feet.

The outside was dark, the moon high above her, a soft blue light over the whole garden. Demelza wandered through it in a daze. It seemed so surreal. She had heard many stories of Rivendell, but she had never for a moment dreamed that one day she would see it with her own eyes. Somewhere in the distance, she could hear the familiar laughter of the dwarves. Presumably, they had found food. As she stopped to catch her breath, her ribs quite painful just from standing she heard Gandalf's voice echo above her, a tall elf beside him with long black hair.

"I think you can trust that I know what I'm doing?" Gandalf said, irritated.

"Do you?" The elf's voice was surprisingly condescending. "That dragon has slept for sixty years! What if you wake the beast?"

"If the dwarves take back the mountain our defences in the east will be strengthened! The throne of Erebor is Thorin's birthright."

Demelza felt a presence behind her and turned to see Thorin.

"Have you forgotten that a strain of madness runs in that family? His grandfather, his father. It seems cruel to say it, but I fear the mountain would be better under the talons of Smaug than in the clutches of yet another mad king."

The hurt in Thorin's eyes was impossible to miss. Hurt and fear. In that moment a large piece of the puzzle came together in Demelza's mind. She had found it hard to understand the sullen stoic dwarf in the last few weeks. While his gruff demeanour came across as harsh and unfeeling she had been certain that she sensed something deeper bellow the surface than simple irritability. And now, and now she could see it, raw and exposed in front of her. A king, a son who had lost everything. His home, his family, even his culture. The dream of his home was all that held his tattered pride together. A pride which a few choise words could ruin in an instant.

Still, he pretended as though he had not heard Elrond. As quickly as the mask had dropped from his face his usual gruff expression had returned.

"Demelza?"

"Thoin."

"When did you wake?"

"Just now."

"How do you feel? Your ribs?"

"Well, thank you."

"Can you breath alright?"

"Yes." Demelza lied. "Did the elves do something to me? I thought it would hurt more."

"The Lord Elrond is famous for his healing magic. Are you sure you can feel no pain?"

"None."

Thorin's mouth pressed into a tight line. "We may have to leave, soon. Maybe even tonight. Can you swear to me that you will be able to keep up?"

Demelza paused for a moment, taken aback that he was asking her. _He trusts me_ \- she though - _keep up? maybe, it would hurt, but I'm sure I could manage_. A brief flash of fear twinged down her spine as she remembered Lobelia's last beating. In fact, now that she though of it, hiding the pain would be easy, she had years of practice. And it wasn't like she would have to walk, they had the donkeys after all. Yes, with the donkeys she would be able to rest a little. She could manage, no, she was determined to manage.

"Yes. I swear."


	7. Chapter 7

Everything hurt. Her feet, her back, but most of all, her ribs. Still, she was sure that she had managed to hide just how much pain she was in from the dwarves, especially Thorin. She had not realised that the dwarves had lost their ponies during the race to Rivendell and in their rush to leave they had not been able to acquire replacements. Demelza closed her eyes as she plodded along, the sharp stabs of pain from her ribs edging on agonising. Over the past few days she had developed better and better ways to distract her mind from the pain. In fact, she thought she had turned it into an art. As soon as they would get up in the morning she would fix her mind's eye on something she loved. A daisy, her favourite meal, even the moon. One she had it pictured in her mind she would picture it over and over again in different colours, different places, different sizes. She imagined how the flowers would smell, the feel of them on her skin. All of it over and over again until her mind was so far removed from her body that the pain was barely more than a distant echo to her mind.

"Demelza?"

Demelza was pulled out from her haze like a rush of cold water over hear head. Thorin stood in front of her, and he looked angry.

"Keep up!" He snapped.

Ahead of them Demelza saw the rest of the dwarves looking at her, they were far ahead on the mountain path, they were almost out of earshot. Almost.

"I'm sorry." Demelza whispered and tried to walk past him.

"Demelza" He held her arm firmly and his other hand reached for her side. She yelped in pain, nearly doubled over. Thorin glared at her, his face black as thunder. "You lied to me!"

"I'm alright." Demelza whispered.

"You lied to me!" Thorin shouted.

Instinctively Demelza shivered and held her hands up protectively over her face. Thorin's shared, confused and then angered by her expression. "You think I would strike you?"

"I'm sorry."

"Stop saying that!"

"Ok, sorr"- Demelza only just managed to stop herself in time, her hands held over her mouth to stop herself. "I'll be fine."

Although none of his thoughts made their way to his expression, Thorin suddenly felt a great wash of pity for the little hobbit cowered in front of him. She looked so small. Not small in terms of height, but small inside. A kind soul which had been trampled and beaten to a small shimmer of it's former vitality. He remembered the bruise which had covered the side of her face for the first week of their journey. At the time he had tried to ignore his suspicions. After all, it was none of his business, and it was not in his nature to pry into the lives of his own family or friends, let alone a hobbit from the Shire.

"Come here."

Demelza stepped forward timidly, her hand reaching for his, but instead of taking it like she expected Thorin stooped down and picked her up in his arms. Demelza groaned as he adjusted his grip, but otherwise did not move. Unsure of how to respond.

 _Dear Durin_ \- Thorin thought to himself - _she has no meat on her! I've carried birds heavier than her!_

None of the other dwarves said anything either as Thorin walked past them, back to the head of the line. After a while, the slow rocking motion from side to side as Thorin walked lulled Demelza to sleep. Thorin looked down at her as he felt her body relax, her head propped against his chest. Wild red curls everywhere. For the briefest of moments a small twitch of a smile appeared at the corners of his mouth, just for a moment, then they were gone.

For the next three days Thorin refused to allow Demelza to walk. Each morning they would wake, eat, then Thorin would walk up to Demelza and hold his hand out towards her. She knew better than to argue, and she knew she was no in a position to refuse. Her ribs needed to heal, and the days walking from Rivendell and completely undone any of the aid Lord Elrond had given her. Above all, though she would not admit it, she had started to enjoy the silence in Thorin's arms. The smell of stone and pine on his clothes, the strong slow sound of his heart beat when she leant her head against his chest. Thorin in turn began to enjoy her company. There was something about the little hobbit which calmed him, even though they barely spoke. She asked no questions about him and she did not speak about herself, and in a strange way that made him curious about her. Afterall, as he now knew, there was more to this little hobbit than met the eye.


End file.
